Fated
by PhoebeSnow
Summary: No matter where they are, when they live, or how they meet, Sherlock and Molly never fail to fall for each other. Stand-alone Sherlolly oneshots. Ratings will vary for each story.
1. Attentive

_Sherlock draws Molly a bath. Rated mild T._

* * *

The moment he came into her flat, he deduced her situation at once.

"Your forehead is sweating. That tells me you've been doing something strenuous which has been taxing on your muscles, and likely muscles that you haven't used in a long time. The trembling of your legs indicate that you've been standing on your feet a lot and it's taken a toll on your lower torso. You're tired and exhausted because you overextended yourself and no doubt, your body is incredibly sore." Sherlock closed the door and cocked his head to the side. "Do you need handkerchief?"

"No, I need a glass of ice cold water and hot bath." Molly huffed as she toed off her trainers and flopped onto the sofa.

"That's an odd combination."

"I don't care. I'm just so tired. _Ooh_." She closed her eyes and just lie there like a flapjack on a griddle iron.

Sherlock smiled to himself and went over to her, kneeling down to remove her trainers and slip off her sweat bands. "I never knew that spring cleaning could be such a pain."

"Well, _you_ never do any kind of cleaning, so why would you?" She cracked open one eye and playfully stuck out her tongue.

" _Miss Hooper_ , may I remind you that you're in a very vulnerable position for me to exploit?"

"Of course you would think about the possibilities of misbehaving, _Mr. Holmes_. Then again, maybe having a sweaty, defenceless woman on your sofa is a turn on for you, eh?"

"You know me too well," Sherlock replied huskily as he bent down to give her a tender kiss.

Molly moaned and grasped her boyfriend's arm tightly, kissing him back in earnest. In her opinion, the kiss was over too quickly, but it wasn't as if she were in the position to do anything else strenuous, particularly of the sexual variety.

Before she could speak, Sherlock gave her nose a tiny peck and left the room for several minutes. For a while, Molly wondered if maybe he'd gone to his mind palace and forgotten her - it wouldn't have been the first time - and she'd begun drifting to sleep. That was when he showed up again.

"Come on," he said, reaching down to pick her up. "I've drawn you a bath."

Molly smiled and wrapped her arms around Sherlock. "Well, aren't you full of surprises?"

"I've still got a few in my bag." He chuckled and carried her all the way to her bathroom, gently setting her down on the tiled floor. "Do you need help undressing?"

"No. I'm okay." The brunette smiled reassuringly at Sherlock and tried to tug off her leggings, but nearly keeled over in the process. Luckily, he caught her before she could hit the ground.

"That will be a yes. Rest your hands on my shoulders, sweetheart."

Sighing, Molly did as she was told and groaned softly as Sherlock started tugging down her leggings. In moments, he had her knickers, socks, shirt and sports bra off her person and she stood naked in front of him.

Sherlock's pants stretched out a bit as he looked at her, but he shook his head, pushing away the urge to throw Molly to the floor and shag her out of her mind. In any other situation, he would have done it, but she was sore and tired and it was always preferable to make love to someone when they're able to return their affection without the fear of injuring themselves.

Instead, he took her in his arms again and carefully placed her in the warm rose scented water. The feel of the water on Molly's skin made her moan in pleasure and she slid down deeper into the tub. "Thank you, Sherlock. This is just what I needed." She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

"Anytime." He kissed her forehead and she leaned into it, sighing softly.

"You're the best boyfriend in the world. But you know what would make this even better?"

"What?"

"Joining me in here." A slow, sultry smile spread on Molly's face and Sherlock felt his pants get just a bit tighter.

"I thought you'd be too tired."

Molly chuckled and grabbed one of his hands, stroking it sensually. "True. As much as I'd love to have your cock between my legs, I can't handle that right now. I'm far too sensitive, but your fingers will do." She licked her lips and gave Sherlock her best 'come hither' stare and that was all the encouragement he needed to tear out of his clothes and get in the bath.

Even though Sherlock was not a fan of Molly's bubble bath soap, he enjoyed sharing the tub with her.


	2. Linger

_When Molly breaks up with her fiancé, she goes to the one person who can comfort her._

* * *

Sherlock opened the door and raised his eyebrows when he saw Molly standing in front of him. "Molly, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be having your...rehearsal dinner?" The last two words he said slowly and carefully, making sure there was no sign of disappointment in them.

"No, it's off. Tom and I aren't getting married." Tears slid down her cheeks and she walked through the door past a wide eyed Sherlock.

After a few moments of silence, he closed the door. "What do you mean you aren't getting married?"

"Do I really have to repeat myself?" Molly glared at him and he parted his lips in surprise. The anger was coming off of her like steam. This was very serious.

Sherlock held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture and made his way to the couch, motioning for her to join him. "Okay, okay. So, the wedding is off. What happened?"

Molly sat down, put her hand on her forehead and sighed. "I found Tom in his car, shagging his ex-girlfriend Janine ten minutes before the rehearsal."

 _"You what?!"_

"Yeah. And the sick thing is, when I caught him, he told me that our relationship was never going to work because I held him to unrealistically high standards."

Sherlock's nostrils flared. "And apparently whatever standards you hold him to in your relationship are not worth discussing, but instead, sullying in a cheap sexual encounter with a slag."

Molly was taken aback at the vitriol in her best friend's voice. She knew he'd be upset, but usually he never called people things like "slag". She had to stop herself from smirking because this was still a horrible situation and she needed to get out her frustrations.

A rueful chuckle left her lips and she shook her head. "I guess so...but it doesn't matter. I told him that I wasn't marrying, threw the ring at him and came here straightaway."

Sherlock furrowed his brow. "You didn't tell everyone at the rehearsal dinner that the wedding was off?"

"Of course not and why should I have? Tom doesn't deserve to get away free on this. He wronged me, so **he** has to deal with the fall out. I hope his family gives him a lot of grief." She huffed and closed her eyes.

"Do you want me to make some tea?"

"No. I just don't want to be alone right now." Molly covered her face with her hand, breathing slowly and evenly for a moment. Then she looked up at Sherlock, her lower lip trembling. "Can you hold me?"

He didn't bother to respond, just pulled her into his arms and rubbed her back with his palms in a slow circular motion.

Molly let out a heavy sigh, melting into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek to his chest. Sherlock felt a rush of warmth go through him. Was it bad that he was relieved Molly's engagement with Tom had ended? Certainly, but the detective couldn't bring himself to care.

It had been awful when Molly told him of her upcoming nuptials to a man who was a terrible copy of himself. Sherlock had to bite his tongue more than once to keep from deducing the other man on numerous occasions.

The idea that he would lose Molly, _his_ Molly to someone so bland and undeserving had been infuriating. As a result of his anguish and frustration, Sherlock played his violin a lot the past few months. It was one of the few ways he'd been able to cope with everything - besides complaining to John and even he had a limit to the number of calls to receive at midnight.

Now, it seemed that Molly had finally realised her ex-fiancé, Tom, was a pathetic sod who was beneath her. However, that didn't mean she was going to fall into Sherlock's arms and profess that she was madly in love with him.

Yes, it was true that Sherlock would be happy if Molly loved him the way he loved her, but he was realistic. She had gotten over that crush she had on him a long time ago and he'd come to understand his feelings towards her a little too late. He was slow in returning affections that probably no longer existed in her. Friends was the only thing available from Molly, but Sherlock would take it, and gladly. Friendship was better than nothing.

Molly's hands pushed his chest and she looked up at him, face damp from the tears she'd cried earlier. A tiny smile spread across her lips and she whispered, "Do you still have some of those coconut macaroons from Saturday?"

Sherlock grinned, remembering two days ago, how they had both baked the desserts together and scarfed down several of them in one sitting. He hadn't finished them though because it felt wrong to eat the rest without Molly, but since she was here...

"Yep. And I have a gallon of milk in the fridge."

The brunette licked her lips and stood up, tugging her best friend with her. "Let's finish them off!"

Molly led the way to the kitchen and Sherlock followed her, his hand entwined in hers. Perhaps they never would be lovers, but he knew this woman better than anyone else alive. He wasn't delusional to believe that anything would happen right now. She was hurting and it may be a while before she could open her heart to anyone again. For all Sherlock knew, she may not even _look_ his way when the time came.

Still, the way Molly smiled at him, with a sparkle in those beautiful brown eyes of hers, and the way she held his hand as they walked, squeezing it like a lifeline, gave him hope.

After all, the future wasn't written in stone. Sherlock would wait for her until she felt the time was right to move on. For now, he would be her friend, her rock. Anything she needed, he would be that for her. Because she was worth it.


End file.
